


Hansencest Frenzy

by Vedettal



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Breeding, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Father/Son Incest, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Smut but only in certain chapters, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:19:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vedettal/pseuds/Vedettal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of Chuck/Herc drabbles, ficlets, and whatever else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Flu

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta. Any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I'm deciding to write and release small drabbles, ficlets, whatever of these two massively adorable idiots and share them with people. So, hope you enjoy!

His nose was running, his eyes were puffy, his voice harsh and dry, and his entire body felt like shit. Not to mention the dull headache that was constantly giving him a sharp pounding like a ten-ton truck was clobbering its way into his skull. Add that to the fact that he was bed-ridden and Chuck Hansen had to be the most miserable person on the planet right now.

He never gets sick. He just doesn't. It's just not something that happens. Like how the sun doesn't rise in the west and set in the east. It was statistically impossible. He was sure he had a better chance breaking an arm than getting sick.

Yet, there he was, disgusting and pathetic, body huddled under three different sets of comforters. There was a graveyard of used snot-filled tissues just beside the floor of his bed, and every few minutes Chuck would add another sickly-green victim to their numbers. He even had a box of Kleenex tucked under his arms just out of necessity.

That was his second box today.

"Lunch time, kiddo."

Chuck blinks and looks up to see his dad hovering over him, something hot and steamy in a bowl as he sets it down on the nightstand. Chuck didn't even hear the man come in.

"N' hungry..." Chuck mutters, tired and maybe a bit delirious.

Herc kneels down and gives him a stern look. "Oi, you gotta eat something."

"Fuck off." Chuck throws the comforters over his head and shuts his eyes tight, It lasts for maybe two seconds before the warmth is abruptly stolen away from him, tugged back below his ankles. His body shudders in protest.

"It's chicken soup," Herc tells him like that was going to make a fucking difference.

Chuck grabs hold of the Kleenex box and throws it at his dad. He misses horribly.

"I don't want yer fucking soup."

"Come on, you used to love it as a kid."

Chuck sniffles, a disgusting trail of mucus building into his nostrils. He points to the box of tissues on the floor by the wall and motions for Herc to hand it to him. Herc doesn't, and Chuck fumes. Only when Chuck begins to whine does his dad give in.

"I was never sick then," Chuck pouts, blowing his nose with absolutely no grace.

"Fuck's sake, Chuck. Stop acting like a baby."

Chuck mopes for a quick second, but reluctantly sits up. He grabs at the comforter and wraps them around his back as Herc feeds him a spoon.

It tastes good, Chuck has to admit.

Another couple spoonfuls and Chuck was starting to warm up already. He removes the two layer of warmth around him, only keeping one. Herc steals a mouthful of soup. Chuck blinks and frowns.

"What 'r yet doing?"

"Having some soup."

"S' mine..."

Herc breaks out into laughter, and Chuck lets out a strained cough before glaring at his dad and crossing his arms. Herc catches the look.

"Boy, what are you, twelve? I made more, if you still want some."

Chuck sniffles. "Gonna get sick, too."

Herc huffs and puffs out his chest proudly. "Don't worry about me, kiddo. Got a stronger immune system than ya."

 

Not even a day later and Herc was curled up in bed right alongside Chuck, just as sick and equally just as gross and pathetic.

Chuck couldn't help but laugh in his dad's face. "Told ya."

"Ah, fuck off, boy," Herc replies grouchily, coughing into a used Kleenex.

"Strong immune system, my arse."

Something flies into Chuck's face and lands right under his chin. He looks down to see the used sickly-green tissue his dad was holding not half a second ago.

"Fuck, old man?" Chuck shouts as loud as his throat allows--which wasn't much. "Fuckin' gross."

Chuck grabs a handful of used tissues laying by his side and tosses it at his dad's face. Herc catches it and throws it back. They go on like this for a few minutes, flinging disgusting white mushes of mucus at each other and swearing profoundly. One even landed on Chuck's lips and another got stuck to Herc's eyelids. They only stopped when the both of them had ran out of used Kleenexes, and neither one wanted to pick at the ones on the floor, piling up like ready ammo.

They were both breathing profusely by now, chest struggling to keep in even before they both fell back onto the bed and howl out in unison. They laughed until sore throats and watering noses prevented them from doing so any longer.

"Told yer it was m' soup."

"Fuck off."

In the end, they're both passed out in a heap of disheveled comforters and mountains of dirty Kleenex.


	2. Power's Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc forgets to pay the electricity bill.

Chuck was in the basement, dancing lightly to his tunes and working diligently on his new project. It was a mechanical toy robot. He had found it laying under a pile of broken dishes and ancient-age appliances fried to a crisp at their cores.

Chuck couldn't believed the audacity. Yeah, the poor thing was barely functional when he had happen upon it and the paint coating was starting to fade, and sure, it was missing its left arm, but that was all minor. Nothing that couldn't be fixed if the fucker would have just brought the thing to a repair shop, or tear out his own toolbox if he was that cheap--even an amateur could go look up a YouTube video.

Damn idiot had no respect.

Then again, not everyone had the same obsession--no,  _hobby_ \-- as Chuck had. No one saw what Chuck did in those simple machinery; no one knew how beautiful those complex, minuscule circuity boards were, or how soothing it could become when Chuck found himself listening to the steady and gentle hum of electrical wires or occasional rhythmic robotic movements.

It was his hobby--even before mum was gone. He remembered fixing toy trains and remote-controlled trucks and showing them off to her. He remembered taking their old--thought dead--toaster and fidgeting with it, finally able to start it back up a few days later. Chuck remembered his mum ruffling his hair, smiling that pretty smile of her's and telling him what a little genius he was.

Then, mum died, and it became his silent hobby.

Chuck was halfway finished with attaching a new arm to Striker--he had named the robot that, why, he doesn't know-- when his music died out abruptly and the power hummed to a halt. Chuck stood there, blinking a few confused seconds away before shouting his frustration into the pitch-blackness. "Yo! Dad! Did you forget to pay the bills?"

The answer came back a few seconds later from the kitchen, where Chuck knew his dad was preparing their dinner--Herc's own little hobby. "Da' hell are you talking about? You pay the bills!"

"I told  _you_ to do it this month! I had exams to prep for!"

There was no answer. Chuck waited, and still nothing. Irritated and tired standing in the dark, doing nothing, Chuck stumbles around the basement, feeling his way to the stairs and ascends. A moment later, he pops into the kitchen where thankfully there are windows, and the light from the lamppost outside and the evening moon are enough for him to see his dad holding at what appears to be the bill and check that never got sent.

"I swear I sent them."

Chuck groans loudly, mumbling a few choice words under his breath before cooling back down. "Where are the fucking flashlights?"

"There's a few in our room upstairs. I think we got some candles here."

Chuck begrudgingly makes his way up the stairs and into their bedroom. There's a lot less light in there, given that they only have one window and it's pointed away from the moon.  _Fuckin' great,_ Chuck thinks as he blindly scavenges around the room, bumping into drawers and stubbing his toe at the foot of the bed. He cusses profoundly. _  
_

"You alright?" Herc calls from the kitchen.

"Peachy!" Chuck calls back incredulously.

Chuck finds the flashlights a few minutes later in a box buried deep in their closest--who the fuck does that? He's fuming and grumbling to himself by the time he makes it back downstairs, flashlight in hand, shining it into the kitchen. Herc has a few candles set up around the kitchen, the lights making decent vision as he grabs a handful of the waxy replacement for light bulbs and hands them to Chuck.

They go around, setting a few candles in each room, lighting the house in yellow flickers--barely. Herc had placed one near the window drapes before Chuck snatched it away, calling his dad a cynical idiot and setting the rest of the candles up himself.

Chuck wonders how Herc would survive without him sometimes.

They finish and are both sitting down in the living space, flashlights in hand, the candles making little shadow puppets on the wall. It's quiet and dark and calm and uncomfortable as hell. He lasts for less than two minutes before Chuck is bored out of his mind. His stomach was rumbling to add to that.

"So, did you manage to at least finish dinner? Or we gon' starve to death?"

"Don't be stupid. Power's out for a night, think we can survive that long."

"I would. I don't know about you."

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Aye, did you finish dinner yet or what?"

"I finished the noddles..."

A loud, lengthy groan escapes from Chuck's throat. He throws his head back and closes his eyes as a mean to calm himself.

It doesn't help. Not a bit.

"Fuckin' terrific," Chuck mutters.

There's a long, strenuous silence. Chuck can hear his steady heartbeat and the flames from the candle as they flicker back and forth. A car zooms past their house and a dog barks in response. He's never notice them before. How loud yet peaceful the neighborhood is. Never really had a chance to. Chuck was always too busy in the basement, blasting his music on high and drowning out the miscellaneous noises with his tools.

Now, he hears it all--or doesn't hear, whatever. And it's kinda nice.

His stomach breaks the silence. Chuck groans again.

"Alright, come on."

Chuck opens his eyes and blinks. Herc's rummaging through a drawer at the end of couch. "Come on, what?"

"Eat. You wanna eat so bad, let's go," Herc pulls out the car keys, flashing them in Chuck's face, "seeing as there's no food around here."

Chuck shrugs and moves to stand up. Herc had forgotten to pay the damn bills, might as well make him get Chuck something decent to eat. His stomach sure wasn't arguing with that. Chuck had walk to get his jacket when something suddenly jerked him back.

He landed into Herc's lap, his dad's hand on his arm, a stupid grin plastered across the man's face.

"Get offa' me!" Chuck was pushing away, but Herc held him tight before pulling their mouths into a quick kiss. Chuck kisses back, only to pull away moments later, minute disbelief on his face. "Fuck are you doing?"

"Oh, come on. You never thought about this? Power's out, no light, nothing but the two of us."

"That's gross and cheesy. And plus, I'm hungry as fuck. Keep it in your pants, old man."

Chuck moves to get away again. No luck.

Herc plants another kiss, it's wet and sloppy this time. He drags his fingers alongside the back of Chuck's neck, his other hand palming at the soft cock inside of Chuck's trouser. Herc's pulling away from their kiss seconds later, his voice heavy and lustful. "How 'bout a quickie?"

Chuck thinks about it. Actually thinks about it before giving his reply. "You gon' take me to the steakhouse?"

"Only if you're a good boy."

Chuck growls and pushes Herc back, straddling his lap and grinding his own hips forward, lips kissing down hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm changing this to mature. Just in case.


	3. Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc's away at a meeting and Chuck gets lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking Chuck and his daddy kink. I don't even know anymore.

_Ring..._

_Ring..._

_Ring..._

Herc's voice. Awkward and stuttering. Lengthy pauses in between uncomfortably drawn-out sentences, followed shortly by a muffled cursing.

_A beep._

Herc's voicemail.

Ancient-bastard was ignoring him. Again.

"Fuckin' bastard." Chuck growls and throws the phone in mild frustration. It hits the bed, bounces from the mattress and lands a few feet from where it should have on the floor. Chuck groans, pinching the ridge of his nose, and goes to retrieve to it.

This was the forth time he tried calling Herc, and each time it was the same stupid voice-message that greeted him instead of dad. The same fucking message the old man never decided to change. The same message that made Herc sound like he was pitching a sale of women's undergarments to a group of toddlers. Chuck was going to have to teach the bastard how to record a normal voice-message and not a half-drunken, half unaware of the fact the recording had already started--or, at least, use the preset machine recording that came with every phone, when he came back. 

_When_ was Herc returning? Chuck hasn't a clue.

His dad was called to some urgent meeting by the Marshal to discuss military defenses and budgeting and monetary issues.

Not exactly Chuck's cup of tea.

Which, left him home, bored out of his goddamn mind and unpleasantly lonely.

Sure, he had Max to keep his company, but the dog was napping soundlessly on the couch of the living space right now--passed out from his noon feeding. Chuck was not going to wake the poor thing.

So, he tried Herc instead. Except the sunava' bitch was undeniably ignoring him now. Either that, or he was chin-deep in military matters. Didn't mean the man couldn't sneak five minutes in the restroom and give his damn son a call. No, the old bastard couldn't even manage that.

Fuck him.

Herc wants to ignore him? Fine. See how the ancient-bastard likes it when Chuck ignores him in bed. What you gonna do about your boner then, old man?

Chuck stops.

He's bent down on the floor, phone in hand, eyes fixed on the small, round basket in front of him. The basket that held the pile of dirty laundry Chuck never got to cleaning. Sitting at the top of said pile was a shirt. Herc's old military present. The one his old RAAF buddies gave to him for reasons Chuck didn't brother to find out. The same shirt Herc refused to throw out despite its torn, dirty edges and the dozens of tiny holes that strung along the shirt's surface-- also, not to mention the gaping rip where the shirt's left armpit sleeve should have been.

Chuck wanted to rid of the ugly thing, but his stubborn bastard of a dad was too attached.

Maybe if he sewed it up, fix it up a little; that way Herc didn't have to-- no, fuck that. Arsehole could strut around in half a shirt and disintegrated shorts for all Chuck cares. Good for nothing bastard couldn't even ring Chuck to tell him if he was still alive or not.

Fuck Herc.

Fuck him.

Fuck his calls.

And fuck his inconsiderate attitude.

And fuck his ugly-ass shirt and-- God, does that smell good.

Chuck has no idea-- seriously no fucking how he manage to wind up on their bed, body snuggled up and face pressed against the steam of the torn, unwashed clothing-- inhaling deep, heavy lungfuls.

It smells like musk and sweat and the old spices in their kitchen and maybe even a bit of that tacky cologne the old man likes to sometimes wear. It smells nice, Chuck admits.

Smells like Herc.

The shirt feels safe and warm and comfortable, and Chuck was now humming pleasantly, wanting nothing more than to pull the sheets up and fall asleep to the illusion that Herc was still here, cuddled up aside him.

Except he couldn't.

Because, right now, Chuck was hard as steel.

The smell was going straight to his cock, which was now leaking and sticking to the fabrics of trousers. Chuck groans lazily and shifts his weight, keeping the deep of Herc's shirt still to his face. He was breathing in rhythm as he fumbles with his pants, barely able to pull them below his hips before his cock strains free.

Chuck takes another inhale, thumbing the head of his cock slowly, slicking up his fingers with useless precum. The strokes start slow slow and dry, and room felt surprisingly warm despite it being the middle of fall.

Chuck parts his lips slightly, fluttering his eyes shut as he breathes in again, and his mind begins to swim in a dirty fantasy.

_He imagines Herc's on top of him, straddling his stomach as his dad's lips kiss into his, deep and slow, they would be. Herc would bite down-- hard, making Chuck's lips bleed a little as the man's finger roam his body freely. Maybe they'd trace across his nipples, and Herc would stop down on a pinch--just a little one, just enough for make Chuck cry out-- and tug back on them sharply. All the while, swallowing back Chuck's moans with his kisses._

Another deep inhale.

_Maybe Herc would let Chuck take him in his mouth afterwards, and let the boy suck him hard. Maybe Chuck would sit back and let Herc use him until his cock was heavy and red, before his dad pulls out with a sick, wet suction noise-- leaving Chuck empty and whining._

Another needy scentful of Herc.

_Maybe, then, Herc would take him in his rough, callous hands and halfheartedly jerk him off. Teasing him and denying him orgasms like Herc always liked to do. Chuck would beg and writhe as Herc teased his fingers in, stretching him open. Herc would then always tell him what a good boy he was being and how beautiful he looked like this. Chuck would always whimper and plead for Herc--for his daddy-- to finally fuck him. To fill him up with that thick daddy cock of his._

Chuck was panting now; his strokes picking up speed.

_Herc would of course grant his wish. Thrusting in dry and rough, dragging his size out slow, watching as Chuck impaled himself back on Herc's cock. Herc would always whisper dirty nothings into his ear, calling him filthy sex-names, and telling Chuck how good he felt, how tight his hole was no matter how many times its been wrecked and stretched by daddy's cock. After a while, Chuck would cry out and scream for his daddy to go faster, to fuck him harder-- to please let him cum._

_And Herc would, bulldozing his final few thrust inside his good little boy and grabbing Chuck's flushing cock and_ \-- Chuck curses loudly, cock exploding, the cum dirtying the sheets all around him. Some of it had even hit the back of Herc's shirt (which was still strangely pressed against Chuck's nostrils).

Fuck.

Chuck was going to have to wash that off before Herc comes back and notices. Who knows what kind of meltdown the ancient-arse would have if he saw his favorite shirt dirty and defiled.

Just then, the phone buzzes, and Chuck jumps upward--startled or a bit guilt-ridden, he's not sure--tossing the shirt aside and blinking. The phone rings a few extra times before Chuck reluctantly moves to answer it.

"Oi, what the hell do ya want, boy?"

It was Herc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck. Is it just me or are these getting more explicit by the chapter? What even. I'm gonna have to change this explicit, aren't I? WHY AM I WRITING SMUT? THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FLUFF.


	4. The Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hansens cruise the local park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally blame [3White_Mage3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3White_Mage3) for this. This is all your fault. I was supposed to have a normal, boring Friday day at work. BUT NOPE. I kept thinking about your park cruising comment, and whoops, my hands slipped.

Herc should have been home. He knows that.

He should have been rolled up on the couch, stripped down to his briefs--or completely nude, if he had felt like it, a cold beer by his side, the air conditioner roaring, and the white noises of the news--or the sports channel--in the background.

He should have been home, finishing the leftover Chinese take-out from yesterday's night, and maybe even fixing that damn hole in the roof he was supposed to. God knows how much Chuck's been bitching at him about it.

So what he was doing in the dimly-lit, dank, piss-scented, revolting excuse for a park, Herc couldn't say. Nor could he explain why he chose _this_ park beyond all others. This park and its reputation for voyeuristic perverts and stupid, naive youngsters looking for a quickie only to regret it moments later. Everybody knows _this_ park. This isn't a park you accidentally stumble upon while out on a walk with the family, nor is it a park you stroll your dog out to for a quick shit. No, everyone who comes to this park comes with intent.

So when he happened upon that familiar red mess of unkempt hair and that cocky, bratty attitude that was always in the boy's voice, Herc charged over, grabbing the man Chuck was talking to--a large, rugged fucker not a few years past Herc--and broke the bastard's nose. The threat of lost genitals and crippled limps was addressed, Herc made certain, as the fucker ran off, cussing profusely and desperately clinging to his red, blotchy nose.

He didn't so much as give the kid a chance to explain before Herc was reaching for the boy by the sleeve of his arm and dragging him away in blind fury.

Chuck started wrenching, pulling free a few feet later.

"What-"

"Don't start with me, boy!" Herc wrapped a vice-like grip around the boy's neck and forcibly push him forward. His boy struggled but Herc held on tight. He was in no mood. "What the fuck do you think you were doing here, boy? Here, of all places!"

Chuck squirms and pulls with strength his youth provided until he manage to stop their march in a barely-visible area obstructed by high bushes and tall trees.

He clawed at Herc's fingers, finally pulling free when Herc had decided to loosen his hold, stumbling a few paces backwards at sudden lost of balance. "Oi! What the fuck do you mean what am I doing here? What the fuck were _you_ doing here!"

Herc swallows because fuck if he knew. "Passing through," he responded gruff and weak.

"Pigeon shit! No one just passes through here for kicks! Perving up on some young, perky arse now, are you, old man?"

"Oi, watch your mouth!"

"Fuck you!"

"Aye! And what the hell were _you_ doing? Chatting friendlies with that complete fucker?"

"None of your goddamn business, that's what."

Chuck turns to storm away but Herc had seized the kid by the back of his shirt, jerking him back abruptly. He looks the kid in the eye, watching that glint of fire and defiance in his boy's green.

"What were you thinking, Chuck? You how fucking dangerous that was?"

"I don't give a rat's arse, old man."

"You fucking stupid, boy? Fuckers around here have all types of diseases, you tryin' ruin your life?"

"I. Don't. Care."

Herc lost any shred of self-control he had at those last few words. Something in Chuck's eyes and the way the kid spoke--as if he was out to prove something--made Herc lurch forward and slam his boy into the bark of the tree standing right behind them. The length of his arm was pressed against Chuck's chest and pinning him down indefinitely.

Chuck bit back on his lips, eyes directed at Herc, breathing frantic and loud. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of shouting or even apologizing like Herc half-expected him to, the kid was soft, almost whispering. 

"What ya gonna do now, _daddy?_   Punish me?" _  
_

Herc doesn't know why, doesn't know how, but some for fucked-up and very illegal reason--perhaps it was the blasted heat frying up his brain--he growled and spun the kid around. He grunted and Chuck let out a soft whimper when Herc pushed the kid's trouser down, just below his hips. Just low enough for Herc to see those two pale globes in the etching darkness around his vision--kinky little bastard had decided to go commando as well.

Herc still had one arm up against the boy's back, but he had used his free hand to reach down to firmly cup Chuck's arse. Chuck hissed and pushes back. Herc grinds his hips upward in response, dragging the rough fabric and zipper of his jeans against the boy's sensitive pale skin. He's quickly rewarded with a needy whine.

"Is this what you wanted?" Herc asks, his voice low and rough on arousal, "what you were looking for out there? For someone to take care of you? To punish you? Tell you what a naughty kid you been?"

The first swat of Herc's palm is sudden and experimental almost, causing Chuck to jump and cry back against it. Kid clearly wasn't expecting it. Herc bit back the smirk and grunted instead.The second one, however, is more purposeful and calculated. This one makes Chuck moan a little too loudly for Herc's own comfort from where they currently were.

Still, Herc slaps the kid a few more times, eating up the boy's desperate little cries as each time Herc drags his fingers across the boy's--now shade of pink--arse a little longer than he needs to. He has to even fight back the urge to shove his fingers in and open that tight, throbbing hole right then and there.

"You're mine, got it?" Herc pulls Chuck's head back into a rough and violent kiss instead. Herc grinds his hips forward one more time--just because he can, and just to hear that filthy little whine again. Chuck doesn't disappoint. "This arse belongs to me and no one else, clear?"

Chuck doesn't even speak. Herc's not even sure the kid can. All he does manages to do is nod.

"Daddy's good little boy. Daddy's gonna take care of you now, don't you worry."

With that, Herc reaches down and pulls the packet of lube from Chuck's trouser pockets.

How does he know it's there?

He just does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret everything. This wasn't supposed to happen. I never meant to add another chapter so soon. Nope. What even.


	5. Addicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's addicted to his daddy's cum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purely porn without plot. Complete and utter unadulterated, shameless smut. I had fully intended to create some kind of back story to this but somewhere between that and the actual smut, it devolve to the point where I was like fuck it.  
> Also, kind of non-con/dub-con followup smut at the end. Just a little warning.

"Please, Herc," Chuck moaned, staring up at his dad with wide, hungry eyes. He has one hand rubbing against the area where the man's bulge was, and the other working on the belt that held together the man's trousers.

Herc looked down at the boy, inhaling a deep length breath. He saw the needy lust behind the boy's eyes. Saw the way his lips quivered and his body trembled whenever the kid spoke his daddy's name like this. When he was on his knees and begging. Like he was getting off on it. Getting off on the looking at his daddy with those desperate, dirty glances, calling out his name like it was a vice. Herc licked his lips.

"Please, what?"

"Please fuck me."

Herc smirked. "Slutty cumwhore needs to be filled with cocks?"

Chuck whimpered, successfully pulling off Herc's belt. "Only yours."

The older Hansen lifted his boy onto his feet, seizing him into a deep, brutal kiss. The boy groaned, and Herc made certain to bite down on his lips--just enough to the point where it was a now filthier shade of red. "We goin' bare tonight?" Chuck puled, nodding his consent. "Good. Now get on your knees and suck me."

Chuck did so, dropping eagerly and fishing out Herc's cock, wrapping his lips around the length. Herc grunted, thrusting his hips forward to meet the warmth. Chuck gagged, steadying his hands on Herc's thighs, but swallowed around it, fitting himself deep onto the cock until his nose was buried in Herc's pubic hair.

Herc let out a deep rumble, resting his left hand on the boy's head, watching as Chuck bob back and forth on his cock, sucking on his dad like his life was depending on it.

Kid knew how to give oral, Herc had to admit. Better than any prostitute Herc's been with that's for sure. And that makes Herc wonder if the kid's been practicing behind his back. Offering that sweet, little mouth of his to any thick hairy-chested fucker he could find. It makes Herc wonder if they ever took him back to one of those cheap and dirty motel rooms, or if they just took the kid right then there behind the dumpster of some dark and dank alleyway.

The thought of it makes his blood boil, a surge of jealously and anger rushing into his brain, and Herc finds himself grasping onto the side of Chuck's head and bucking forward aggressively, face-fucking those concerns away. Chuck makes a noise around the crude action, widening his mouth, giving Herc full access.

"Fuck, Chuck. Somebody's hungry tonight." Chuck moans, peering upward until their eyes met, and Herc watched as saliva drip down the side of kid's mouth as Herc pulled back slightly before ramming his cock back down. A few more thrust and Chuck was tightening his grip on Herc's thigh. "You want it?" Herc grunts, "want me to nut down that greedy, little mouth of your's? You wanna eat my load, huh, baby?"

Herc weakens his brace on the boy just enough for Chuck to pull away with a slick, wet slurp. "Fuck, yes! Cum in my throat, Herc. Wanna taste it. Wanna eat your cum. Could eat it all day," Chuck says in between breaths.

"Too bad," Herc grunts, pulling the boy up underneath his armpits, "on your back, now."

He forces the boy down, not giving Chuck much of a choice as he spreads him wide and throws Chuck's legs over his shoulders. Herc reaches for the lube that awaited him on the nightstand beside, coating his cock in a quick layer before shoving in without warning.

Chuck moans as Herc rolls his fucks in slow--teasing, at first. "Fuck, Herc. Please."

"Please what? What does my cumslut want?"

"Please... Please fuck me."

Herc does, pushing his fucks in deep and quick--just enough to feel his balls slap against the side of Chuck's ass. The sound drives him even hotter. "Fuck, Chuck. You feel so good like this. So fucking tight."

Chuck responds with these soft, little whimpers. Breathless incoherent mutters like he's trying to say something but losses it whenever Herc slams back in. 

Herc slows his pace after awhile, panting heavily as he drags his cock in and out of Chuck's prostate, teasing the poor kid. Chuck answers with vulgar, breathy moans until he can't hold it anymore and paws at the sheets vainly, needy little pants between his breath.

"Herc... Please... Just fuck me."

Herc huffs, ramming his entire length inside and keeping it there. Chuck ruts, trying to create friction, but Herc pins his hips down. "You want me to fuck you, huh? Need it that bad? Need me to breed you full of my cum?"

"Yes! Fuck yes! Need to feel you inside me, filling me up so deep. Need you to cum in my ass right now. Please, Herc. Fuck me. Please."

Herc growls, grabbing Chuck's leg in place as he power-driving his nut into the boy. It doesn't take but a few thrust before Herc's letting out a final grunt, wide cockhead exploding, cum and testosterone flooding into his boy's inside. Herc feels his cum fill around Chuck's hole as he watches the kid climaxes himself. Thick, throbbing cock flaring out his own milky, white batter all over his own chest.

Sated and panting, Herc waits until he's fully soft before pulling out and collapsing next to his son. They don't speak a word as Chuck gives him a quick kiss before nuzzling into his chest. And Herc can't help the smile on his lips as they drift off to sleep, entangled in each other's arm, knowing that Chuck will still have his daddy's dry load up his ass when they wake.

 

 

Herc wakes to the rocking of the mattress and something tight and hot around his cock. It's not morning, Herc can tell that much by the pitch blackness outside, but he doesn't need the sun to see Chuck's outline in the dim moonlight. His body moving up and down, riding himself on daddy's cock.

It couldn't have been long since they fell asleep because Herc can still feel and hear the wet squelch of his cum in Chuck's ass as the boy works himself on Herc's cock.

"Chuck... agh, fuck. W-what are you--gah--doing?"

Chuck doesn't stop, just stares into Herc's eyes, spreading his fingers across Herc's chest. He leans in slightly and whispers, "Need your cum again, Herc. Please. Need you fill me up again. Just one more time. Please, Herc?"

Herc grunts, grabbing Chuck by the hips and impaling him back on his cock. "Fuckin' cumslut."


	6. Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's been a bad boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble I wrote for someone on tumblr. Don't think too much of it. Nothing more to say, nothing more I can say.

"One."

Chuck hisses, his skin is burning and dick’s throbbing, leaking precum all over his dad’s leg.

"Two."

Herc presses another quick slap, and Chuck jumps this time. His face is burning red and he shuts his eyes tight. It doesn't help the dirty, little moan he makes when Herc presses down again.

"Three."

Chuck’s panting now, head spinning and eyes watering. He bites down on his shirt just for the stability.

"Daddy, please-"

"Four."

This time, he lets out a whimper and rocks his hip forward instinctively, grinding his erection against Herc’s leg. He’s rewarded with a deep grunt from above.

He’s make it to twenty tonight. A new record of sorts. And as Herc picks him up, Chuck’s all but over the edge, eyes red from the quiet sobs and face flushed. It takes but two strokes from his dad to push the orgasm into Chuck.

His body spazzes and he collapses into Herc, moaning like he knows a good little boy should.

Herc gathers the milky, white batter in his fingers and brings it towards Chuck’s mouth. Chuck licks at it eagerly, moaning around Herc’s fingers. When he’s finish, Herc pulls out and wipes his hand across the sleeve of his jeans.

"Was I a good boy, daddy?" Chuck asks when Herc doesn't speak.

Herc smiles and strokes his hair. “Yes you were. Good boys deserve a treat, don’t you think?”

Chuck nods furiously, dick going hard again, and Herc chuckles at his boy’s enthusiasm. Herc kisses him, dropping the boy down to his knees, and pulling down his own zipper.

 


	7. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pentecost hosts a Christmas party as a reminder of their post-breach success. Chuck and Herc share a kiss under very public watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fic I wrote for the [Hansencest Advent Calendar.](http://hansencestadvent.tumblr.com/) Enjoy! And happy holidays to everyone out there!

It's loud and boisterous, this party. Reeking of whiskey and wine, the smell pungent and fusing with the leftover midday BBQ and the sour aftertaste of the evening cocktails. The pool outside crowded, the hallways idled with noisy mundane gossip, and the house vibrating in turn with its lively inhabitants.

The Marshal had invited everyone--even the temporary tech interns and the nightly janitorial staffs--to his humble abode for his sudden, but well-meant Christmas day party bash. Which, had reduced his once eloquent and richly designed home to nothing more than a central hub for drunken colleagues and roistering friends. The Marshal didn't seem to mind too much though. A little garbage and trash was well-worth the party's intent.

Their first near annual reminder that it was over. That not a year prior, they had embarked to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean in what could have easily been the most stupid and reckless plan of their short heroic lives, but had somehow manage to survive and save the human race in the process.

There were no more Kaijus, no more Jaegers, no more rumors of chance apocalypse. They were safe. The world was safe.

Chuck had thought the affair senseless and unnecessary, but could acknowledge and appreciate the symbolic gesture nonetheless. Beside, who was he to deny well-cooked meals, decision-numbing alcohol, and a hell of a time.

A party was still a party.

And so maybe he had had twice too many to drink, and his thinking capacity and motor-reflexes were a bit hazy, because he doesn't remember noticing that mischievous little giggle Mako gave as he passed her by, or the wide devilishly grin Raleigh wore as he was crowding Chuck forward. Nor did Chuck take note of the blatant look of amusement plastered on Yancy's stupid face as the Becket exchanged looks with his brother. And Chuck definitively didn't stop to consider the sudden hush of silence that had fell across the room like hailstorms.

No. Chuck was lost to the siren call of Bourbon.

Raleigh had lead him to where dad and the Marshal were standing, in between and underneath a large doorway chatting away on fond memories. Dad had the same blank expression people often told them they shared on his face when he noticed the approaching pair, but the Marshal, he was-was that a smirk?

Somehow and gone unnoticed by Chuck, Stacker had switch places with him and Raleigh, being the sneaky bastard he was, had position them so that both he and his father were directly below the door now.

The room was still uncomfortably silent, save for the occasional whisper and cough. Chuck stood dumbfounded.

"What the hell is going on here, Becket? Why's everyone so piss-quiet?"

No one in the room spoke, not Becket, not even the Marshal. But Chuck saw the dirty, little glances they gave each other, like they all were sharing a joke--a joke Chuck wasn't included in. He didn't like that.

"Oi, somebody better fu-"

"Chuck."

He turned his attention towards his father and saw the man pointing to something above them. Chuck took a glance up and immediately felt his cheeks begin to flush.

Mistletoe.

It had been some months since Chuck and Herc went public with their relationship--their real relationship. It was Chuck’s idea, of course, and despite the alarming coverage and scandalous printed headlines on the celebratory father-son pairing, it affected little to nothing. Then again, it helped that everybody the Hansens knew--or the ones whose name Chuck had bothered to learned anyways--had accepted their little taboo act, and even a few were none too surprised by the news.

Chuck didn't think they were too obvious, were they?

"Aye, ‘s stupid. Come on, dad, we ain't got' to do any of this crap."

Chuck looked to move and had gone as far as taken a single step away when he felt a pair of strong hands (Herc's. Chuck knew them well) seize him by the back of his head and dad's lips crudely clashing into his. Chuck met the kiss with the fronts of his teeth, because, well, could you blame him? It was unnatural and awkward, and Chuck tasted the tang of whiskey he had drank earlier and the un-savoring taste of meats and potatoes Herc was obviously stuffing on before. Not exactly one of their better kisses. But as it lingered longer, Chuck felt better, more relaxed--more like they were in privacy of their own home and Herc was kissing him he always did before-

"Give some tongue!" the Becket brothers roared in unison and a fit of laughter and cheers erupted to meet them, and Chuck felt himself blush bright pink.

He wanted to argue back, to give a smart-ass reply, tell the Beckets to fuck off even and maybe defend what shred of dignity and self-image he had left. Alas, he wasn't afforded the chance.

Dad pushed the kiss deeper, and if he was using tongue, Chuck wasn't one to complain. Nor did he flinch when one of the man’s hands found its stop inside the back pocket of his jeans.

(And if he did, it was to press back on that touch. Not that anybody could see that, of course.)

The cheers turned into applause, and finally into whoops.

Chuck felt his face turn a shade of rose, but he smiled into the kiss, pulling dad just a little bit closer.

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, or maybe it was holiday spirit, whichever, Chuck suddenly felt very thankful for the blasted piece of plantation above their head (and maybe a little bit hard, but that was something for the later night). He leaned back and rested their foreheads together, fingers tracing on Herc’s neck.

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

The smile on dad’s face did nothing but reinforce the thought he once had almost a year ago, when they had found his and the Marshal’s con-pod floating a few miles from where Becket’s and Mako’s were. Luckily for him, dad was a stubborn old geezer.

"Merry Christmas, Chuck."

He was glad he didn't die that day.


	8. Decorations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck decides to start the Christmas decorating again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fic I wrote for [Hansencest Advent Calendar.](http://hansencestadvent.tumblr.com/) Enjoy!

"Chuck, what the hell are you doin'?" Herc asks, his eyes bouncing between the Christmas stocking hanging above the fireplace to the garlands floating across the walls to the nauseously decorated tree trapped right alongside the living space window.

"Decorating," Chuck answers him, tossing another ornament onto the already obese piece of plantation. Herc would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about the thing toppling over and burying the kid in an avalanche of holiday pretties. Or that the tree had gone from easy on the eyes to safety hazard.

And Herc would definitively be lying if he said he wasn't perplex by the situation. They've never done this before.  _Chuck_  has never done this before. At least, not since...

"Where'd you even a tree this late?"

Chuck doesn't even pause to look at his dad. Fingers too busy meticulously assigning cheap piece of plastic their place and order. It reminds Herc of when they were still in the PPDC, and Chuck would spend hours on their jaeger. Fine piece of technology, Striker was. Chuck had always-

"The Russians."

Herc blinks. The Russians? What the fuck are they doing, selling Christmas trees? Weapons and bombs, Herc can understand, but Christmas trees? Why the fuck was there an underground black market for trees? Where the hell was the profit in that?

"Why?" Herc sighs, stepping closer, eyes darting back and forth on what Chuck has already accomplished. It's nice. Every piece of plastic decoration sits neat and pristine, not hanging too low, not too close nor far from some other ornament, not facing off in some misdirection of its own. Kid was a natural, Herc admits. Then again Chuck was always a perfectionist.

"How the hell should I know? Maybe there's an underground network of supposedly deceased criminals trying to celebrate the Old Saint Nick's day without having to explain their face to delivery guy." Chuck ducks behind the back, out of Herc's eyes, shuffles with a few things, mutters some choice words, and jumps back out. He glides past Herc, racing towards a box Herc has just notice is there, rummages through its content, and presents Herc with two options. "Angel or star?"

"Not that, you moron. I meant the goddamn..." Herc points to emphasize, "... the tree and all this Christmas crap."

Chuck shrugs. "Why not?"

"Because-because we don't celebrate Christmas. Haven't since-since..."

"Mum's death, I know," Chuck finishes for him, and the words make Herc flinch.

Chuck looks distraught for a second, something between anger and pain. And Herc feels his stomach drop in regret. That was exactly the reaction he best thought to avoid. There was a reason why they had stopped indulging the holiday cheer, and a reason they no longer even talked about it. It's was Chuck's and Angela's favorite holiday. Herc had loved it too, but not nearly as much as those two. And after the failed attempt the year Angela died, neither of them brought it up in conversation again.

They still gave each other presents, though. But it was never as festive...

"I miss it." Chuck's quiet voice breaks Herc's concentration. Herc looks up to see the half-smile on his boy's face. "Miss it all. The food, the annoying songs, the stupid, cheesy movies, the ball-numbin' weather. Y'know? The whole not carin' for a few days because the world might be goin' to shit anytime soon. Plus, this way you can finally get me a real gift."

Herc breathes out a weak laugh. He walks over to the boy, takes him by the back of his hairs and kisses him. Soft and gentle. "And what's a real gift?" Herc murmurs when they pull off.

"Somethin' not your dick, old man"

"Oi, I don't hear you complainin', kid."

"That's 'cause I'm not. But gift wrappin' wouldn't hurt, y'know?"

Herc kisses him again. "Yeah, I know."

They stand fitted together, leaning against one another's weight, both appreciating Chuck's handiwork. It's quiet and beyond the soothing blizzard outside, Herc doesn't complain. Not often that their chats heavy on the emotional side and less on the barking retorts and choice cursing and the hot, filthy sex. Not that it was anything to protest about. But this... this is different. This is nice.

And the moment lasts too... short, in Herc's honest opinion. Chuck's already pulling away, but not before planting another quick kiss to their lips, and when it ends this time, the boy's holding up two distinct beautifully craved ornaments. "Angel or star?"

Herc laughs. "Star. Angel can be next year."


	9. Things you said after you kissed me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before Pitfall. Chuck's terrified, and Herc does the best he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This is angst heavy. Like a lot. I've been warned that it is tears inducing.
> 
> A tumblr ficlet I wrote for a friend.

“Chuck, what are you-”

The last few words were lost in a garble of confused groans and mumbles as Chuck pressed forward, touching their lips into a soft, crude kiss.

Herc jerked away almost instantly, seizing Chuck by the collar of his shirt and pulling him inside the bedroom, before leaning out the hell to make sure they hadn’t been watched, and slamming the door shut a second later.

“Oi! For god’s sake, Chuck, you can’t be doing that. I’m your fucking father and-”

He paused mid-sentence, catching the glint of tears in the boy’s eyes and the soft trembling of his body that reminded Herc of when Chuck was still a sprog and would come sneaking into his daddy’s room after a bad nightmare.

_His boy._

“Hey, hey,” Herc murmured, and like he had done so many years ago, pulled the boy close and hugged him tight. “What’s the matter? You alright, kiddo?”

Chuck looked up at him, and it tugged on Herc’s heart to see how upset his son was.

“Herc, I’m… I’m… I’m sc-”

“Shh, shh. It’s alright. I’m here, kiddo. It’s gonna be okay.”

Herc wanted to scream, to curse the world. He wanted to march straight into Stacker’s quarters right now and demand the man take someone else with him on this suicide mission.

Chuck was scared.  _His boy_  was terrified, and for good reasons. Herc couldn’t blame him. They both knew this wouldn’t be an assignment his son would be returning from.

“Dad, please. Please don’t make me… Please - just don’t-”

“Shh, shh.” Herc moved them to his bed. He laid the boy down on his pillow and climbed in next to him. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna make you do anything, alright?”

Chuck nodded, sniffling and nuzzling closer as Herc held him, stroked the back of his hair.

“I-I love you, dad.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

He leaned down and kissed Chuck, slow and deep, until there was nothing left but their breathing and the ghost drift humming between them, and even then that wasn’t enough. So he kissed the boy again.


	10. Things you said at 1 am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck thinks about getting marry. Sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tumblr ficlet.

“Do you think about getting married?”

Herc blinked, glancing up at Chuck from his side of the bed, not sure how to respond.

“What?”

Chuck shifted, made to roll his eyes before looking Herc in the eye. “Us, old man. Do you ever wonder what it’ll be like if we were married?”

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. “Sometimes, yeah. S’nice to think about.”

“Then why don’t we?” Chuck asked, as if he hadn’t already known the answer.  
Scoffing, Herc turned to give him a quizzical look. “Because you’re my son, and it’s illegal. And I didn’t think you want the whole world snooping in on our business.”

When Chuck failed to say anything in response, Herc let out a breath, sighing. “Look, if you want, kiddo, I’ll go buy you a ring if it makes you feel better.”

Chuck rolled his eyes again. “I don’t want no fucking ring.”

Herc frowned deeply. “Then what do you want? Why the hell do you wanna get married for, then?”

“I dunno! S’nice to think about, is all.”

Growling, Herc grabbed him by the hip, rolling on top of Chuck until he was biting and nibbling on the kid’s ears and neck, Chuck pawing and cursing and pushing uselessly at Herc’s chest.

They wrestled like this for a few minutes until it ended with Chuck lying on top of Herc, the both of them panting heavily.

“So,” Herc said, petting Chuck’s back. “Ready for round two?”

Puffing out a breath, Chuck teased him. “I was ready ages ago, _old man_.”

Herc grunted, flipping the kid onto his back with one swift movement, before leaning down for a quick, hard kiss.

“I’ll show you who’s  _old_ ,” he said husky, spreading Chuck’s legs and reaching for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, laughing when he heard the kid whine. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll still fuck you like we’re married.”


	11. In his sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck sneaks into his daddy's room late at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was done in like 15 mins and just random porn because boyfriends demanded it... So. Any mistakes are totally on me.

Chuck waited until his dad was asleep, passed out from a long day's work. He waited for the soft snoring to crawl underneath the sheets and between his dad's legs, where only a pair of thin gray boxers awaited him. It was with an unsteady hand that he pulled the sheets back, just enough for the thin light from the window to illuminate the massive bulge underneath his dad's boxers.

And it was with an unsteady hand and rapid heartbeat that he pulled the thin fabric back and reached inside with one hand, wrapping small fingers around the thick girth and pulled out his daddy's cock.

Even soft it was huge, and Chuck felt nervous, sneaking a glance up at his dad to make sure he was still passed out, before stroking it gently with his tiny hand.

It grew, twitched in his fist and Chuck shifted up for a better look. Dad was still snoring, albeit a bit quieter now, and he continued, stroking him until he was too big and Chuck needed both hands. Daddy was big and it made him bit down on his lip as a bead of precum ooze from the tip.

He parted his lips then, flicking his tongue out to lap the silt and to taste his daddy. Chuck didn't hate it and lapped at it again, this time closing his lips from the head and sucking gently.

He heard daddy hitch a breath then, and he tensed, pulling back immediately and flattening his body, though his hands were still on his daddy's cock. And when dad didn't stir again, Chuck leaned back up and returned to the head, feeling a little braver now.

Sucking down on the head, he gave a little moan when more precum leaked out of his daddy's cock and onto his tongue. Sucking down a little further, he let his tongue run down the undershaft until it hit the back of his throat and he gag a small bit.

There was a deep groan above him and Chuck glanced up, mouth not leaving his daddy's cock. He saw his daddy's expression change, his lips slightly parted, and his fingers had grip the sheets firmly.

Taking that as a sign he was doing well, Chuck started to move, bobbing his head up and down until he had a steady rhythm and his daddy was groaning and panting above of him. It made him excited and hard knowing he was sucking off his daddy without him knowing.

Reaching down and in between his own boxers, he wrapped one hand around his own cock and started jerking, increasing his rhythm on his daddy. He made obscene noises, whimpers, as he sucked, until suddenly he felt a pair of hands grab the side of his head and his daddy's hip was thrusting up into his mouth, cock completely buried in his throat.

He was surprised and yelped, trying to pull back but his daddy held him tight, keeping Chuck there as his cock throb and he felt the hot cum hit the back of his throat. Chuck came too then, inside his boxers and all over his fingers, letting out a desperate moan as daddy buried himself inside his throat before letting up finally after a few moments.

The last few spurts hit his tongue, dripping down the corner of his mouth as he swallowed and whimpered, tasting his daddy. He cleaned his dad up, until he was soft and tucked him back inside his boxers before running off to his bathroom, cum dripping down his thighs as he did.


	12. When he wakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc decides to experiment with a kink both he and Chuck have been wanting for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This fic contains somnophila, all consensual though, but still somnophila nonetheless. If it bothers you stop now. If not, then enjoy!
> 
> Un-beta. Any and all mistakes are mine.

Herc knew he shouldn’t – he really shouldn’t be here – but standing there at the foot of Chuck’s bunk, watching the gentle rise and fall of his boy’s chest, he couldn’t talk himself away. Chuck was shirtless with only his shorts on, and he looked absolutely delicious like that.

It made Herc want.

So he found himself quietly climbing into Chuck’s bunk and slowly but carefully peeling back the sheets, revealing a stiff tent in the boy’s shorts. That made Herc smirk. It seemed Chuck was already in the mood, and that gave Herc the bit of confident push he needed.

Carefully, he leaned over Chuck’s body and reached down with one hand to trace a line in between Chuck’s chest. His boy responded at that, inhaling deeply and shifting a bit in his sleep. One of his hands were now draped over his hip as Chuck buried his face deeper into his pillow.

It was almost cute.

Too bad Herc wasn’t here to just watch.

Licking his lips, Herc ghosted one of his fingers over Chuck’s right nipple and gave it a small pinch. It hardened to a nub almost immediately to his touch, but Chuck made no indication he was awake.

Wasting no more time to get what he came for Herc cautiously pulled Chuck’s shorts off and gently nudged his leg apart before positioning himself between them. It was practically sinful seeing Chuck all spread out and naked before him.

With a quick check to make sure Chuck hadn’t woken yet, Herc reached down between his son’s legs and rubbed a finger against his hole. It was a bit difficult without Chuck’s aid but his boy was still loose enough from their earlier session that Herc found he could slip his finger in easily enough.

Chuck made another noise in his sleep, a small groan this time.

The noise went straight to Herc’s cock.

He added another finger and pushed them in deep, feeling that Chuck had decidedly not taken a shower and cleaned himself out before bed.

Fuck, that was hot.

Herc was rock hard now, thinking about how his cum was still inside his boy, how Chuck decided not to clean himself out. If the boy was awake now he’d tell Chuck what a good boy he was and watched as his son all but melted into his praise.

Chuck’s kink was his gain.

Herc pulled his fingers out and eagerly ridded himself of his sweatpants, tossing them to the floor somewhere. Without even trying to be subtle and secretive anymore, he reached under and pulled Chuck’s hip up towards him.

That roused Chuck then.

“D-dad?” his boy asked groggily, blinking and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looked confused and tried to shift his position.

Herc held him tight, though, and reached down to line himself up. “Shh, daddy’s here. I’ll take care of you.”

“What are you-“ The question was stopped short with Herc pushed in suddenly and without warning. Chuck gasped loudly and cried out, fingers shooting out to clench the bedsheets like his dear life depended on it.

Herc groaned and stilled himself a moment. Even with how loose and slick Chuck was the boy felt impossibly tight around him, like he was clenching down on Herc’s cock.

“Relax, baby boy. I’m here now,” Herc cooed and started to thrust shallowly, watching the way Chuck twisted and whimper and arched his hips up.

“Daddy!” Chuck moaned, shutting his eyes tight and breathing heavily.

After a few more thrusts Herc could feel Chuck relax around him, pushing his hips back on Herc’s cock as he begged for more. Herc didn’t need to be told twice as he slammed in harder and deeper, letting out a low moan when he felt his own cum around his cock. He was pushing his own cum deeper inside his son, and that mental imagine alone drove him wild.

Gripping down hard on Chuck’s hip, Herc fucked into his boy like it was the only thing he knew, like Chuck was his to do with he pleased. And it was true. Chuck was his son, his boy. Herc had made him, and Chuck was made for him.

He’d fuck him hard enough that Chuck would be walking funny for the next week or so if he had the chance. Of course that meant people would be asking questions, and it was bad enough that the media was so focused on them for being the best jaeger pilots in the world, he didn’t need the entire PPDC to be breathing down their neck as well.

Another time then, Herc thought as he rocked into his boy relentlessly, savouring every little moan and whimper he elicit from Chuck’s lip each time he clipped past his boy’s prostate. It didn’t take long for Herc to cum – not with the way Chuck seemed to be clenching around his cock – moaning loudly as he did.

Herc had meant to say something, praise Chuck for being a good boy maybe, but the only sounds that escaped his lips were vulgar grunts and groan as he all but collapsed on top of him. Chuck was deliberately clenching his ass now, like he was trying to milk Herc for every last drop, and Herc had no option but to grant the boy his wish.

Only after he had emptied himself inside of Chuck and his own cock was starting to grow soft did he speak.

“Such a fucking cum slut, aren’t you?” he asked Chuck in a low, husky voice.

“Only for you, daddy,” Chuck answered and leaned up to kiss him. Herc answered it by returning the kiss, pushing his tongue inside of Chuck’s mouth and tasting him. Chuck let out another moan and he could feel the boy’s hard cock press against his stomach.

Herc pulled back after a moment and grinned down at him. “Cum for your daddy then,” he said and reached down to wrap a fist around Chuck’s cock before jerking him off. Chuck moaned obscenely at that and pushed his hips up and into Herc’s hand desperately.

The boy didn’t last long, only a few seconds before Herc had him whimpering and dirtying his chest and yet another one of Herc’s Henley with cum. Chuck laid there, panting and catching his breath as Herc stood up and pulled his shirt off.

Another one to add to the laundry basket.

As he was rummaging through his drawers for another shirt, he heard Chuck speak up again.

“You know; you could have just woken me up for that.”

Herc shrugged. “You said you wanted to try it out once.”

He heard a huff and a scoff. “Didn’t think it be tonight, ya kinky bastard. I didn’t even get a chance to clean myself out yet.”

“Like you didn’t enjoy that, kiddo. Probably made it even hotter for you, I bet. Getting all of daddy’s cum inside of your hole. You’d probably do it again, huh?”

Herc smirked. The silence answered that for him.


End file.
